Steadfast
by Levade
Summary: Set before the White Council's attack on Dol Guldor. Sometimes the hardest part of a battle is for those who do not fight or are left behind. Glorfindel, Arwen January 1, 2015


_Disclaimer: I'm not making money from this and I don't own it. I do it for sheer love of the world._

_I haven't seen the last installment of the Hobbit movies yet, but I saw the trailer with Elrond in his armor and that… That sparked all kind of ideas! I cannot wait to see the movie! This little tale was born of that trailer and a conversation that EverleighBain and I had regarding Arwen and her role in Tolkien's story (the books more than the movies). How she kept watch over Aragorn from afar, and how important her unseen, unheralded work was, both in keeping watch and in crafting the standard that Aragorn unfurled to go into battle. Arwen is not written about much, and even less is complimentary to her. Tolkien had little to say about it, but I always thought Arwen's role was hugely important. Without her Aragorn might never have been motivated to seek the crown that was rightfully his. And without Aragorn drawing Sauron's attention, Frodo and Sam might never have been able to make it to Mount Doom to drop the One Ring. It's like the Butterfly Effect or a stone thrown into a pond that creates a ripple that spreads. Gandalf said it best in __The Hobbit__: "__I found it is the small everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keep the darkness at bay… small acts of kindness and love."_

_Dedicated to all the Tolkien writers and readers who share their stories and do their part in small acts of kindness and love. Thank you for your friendship and your stories. :) May this new year be kind and generous to you. Happy New Year!_

**_Steadfast_**

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><p>"What, did you not have new armor made as well?"<p>

The figure leaning against the column didn't straighten, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I daresay my armor has seen enough use to prove its worth, Undómiel."

"You would go to battle Sauron with dented metal."

Watching as Elladan helped Elrohir buckle his breastplate on, Glorfindel snorted and straightened. Arms still crossed he arched an eyebrow as he turned his gaze to the twin's sister. "I'm surprised to not see you down there as well."

Arwen wrinkled her nose. "Adar, Daeradar and my brothers all threatened me with dire tidings should I even attempt chain maille."

Noting the one name, Lady Galadriel, left out, Glorfindel entertained the brief notion of allowing Undómiel into the fight. She had the fire, the will and the blood of warriors in her veins. Her grandmother was one of the key leaders of the attack on Dol Goldur.

Glorfindel promptly shoved it out of his mind as the image of his lord in righteous anger (and brand new armor) raising his sword against him in wrath for involving his only daughter in what was sure to be an ugly battle. "And what did the lady say?"

"That this would likely be a poor choice of battles to test my mettle and that I should wait for something that did not involve necromancy and confronting sorcerers in their own lair."

Glorfindel sobered. "It is true, this is not the tactic that I would advise had we the luxury of waiting, but that is not the case." His gaze went beyond Arwen to the forest and past that to the unseen. "I fear we have waited too long."

Biting her lip, Arwen took hold of his arm. "Have you foresight in this?" It would not be the first time but as the blue gaze focused on her again, she saw it was merely his own concerns he had been speaking.

"Nothing useful." Putting his own hand atop hers, Glorfindel squeezed gently. "I will watch over them."

"You always have." Recalling a time long ago, she smiled. "Do you remember the time I tried to wear Adar's armor from the Last Alliance?"

His look gentled. "You chided me for not being a hero."

"You mocked me."

"Ah." Glorfindel smiled and let it light his eyes. "I knew there was something I was doing wrong!"

Seeing a small group of elves passing the last line of archers, Arwen nodded. "Yet somehow you wooed and won a maiden."

"Wonders never cease," Glorfindel agreed and his gaze went to one of the healers. "She'll not be pleased to be left behind."

"We'll conspire against you together."

"Now I do fear!" Glorfindel brought Arwen's hand up and kissed it. "Be wary, Undómiel. We go to strike the den, but there are yet wolves prowling these woods."

"We will be wary, won't we, Bronwe?" Arwen included the elf joining them.

Concern was clear in her eyes, but she smiled for the pair before her. "Always. And I daresay Haldir is more loathe than either of us to see his beloved Lothlórien spoilt by orcs and wargs."

"He is not going with us?"

"The lady asked him to stay and guard."

The distaste in her eyes for being left behind had him moving to put his arm around his wife's shoulders and hug her gently. "Watch for the signal, Bron. We'll need healers, but not in the initial assault."

"We're being kept too far to be of help!"

"You are being kept where they cannot touch you." In this he would brook no argument, and his gaze and voice were adamant. Glorfindel would not be moved by any plea.

Arwen wisely stayed out of the contest of wills. She'd beat her head against that protective wall for ages and he had never wavered. Loyal, yes, and stubborn enough to face down a balrog.

If there was communication, it was silent as the two gazed at each other for a long moment that stretched before Bronwe huffed and bowed her head. "Fine. Don't forget your helmet this time."

A smile quirked Glorfindel's mouth, and he bent to kiss her forehead, murmuring, "Elbereth guard you well, love." He nearly staggered back a step as she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him as tightly as she could with the armor in the way. With a soft laugh, he took her hands and kissed them. "Mauya nin avánië, melda heri."

Bronwe gave a nod, and a smile. There would never be tears for farewell. "Farad vaer, hîr vuin."

Glorfindel smiled and released her hands. "Keep your bows handy, both of you. Try not to drive Haldir to pulling out his hair."

"It's far too lovely for that." Arwen resisted sticking her tongue out by linking arms with Bronwe. "We'll see you all away." Glorfindel bowed, then pivoted to walk down the hill to where Elrond stood with his sons. "It never gets easier to watch them leave, does it?"

"No." The answer was quick, but then it didn't require any thought. "Never."

"I've always wondered what it would be like to go with those riding away with the rush and power of knowing you go to fight and defend your people rather than staying behind to wait and keep vigil."

Bronwe hesitated. Hadn't she just argued the same thing with Glorfindel? And yet… She would remain in Lothlórien. On the border, yes, but far enough from the nexus of the fight to let Glorfindel retain his peace of mind. "Yet you wait here in Lothlórien rather than fight to ride out with your brothers."

"Naneth…" Arwen's voice broke then steadied as Bronwe squeezed her hand. "Naneth used to listen to me rail against being left behind. She was the one who pushed Ada to allow me to be trained in dagger and sword, and she taught me archery herself. She said it was important for me to know how to defend myself." As thoughts of the attack on the Redhorn Pass swirled in her mind, Arwen pushed past them with a deep breath. "But she also told me the story of Aredhel of Gondolin, and how strong-willed she had been, so much so that she insisted on leaving the safety of the city because she wanted to visit her cousins. Beleriand was dangerous in those days, so her brother insisted she go with a small escort."

Glorfindel had been one of those who had escorted Lady Aredhel. Bronwe had heard the tale from his point of view more than once, but she nodded and waited for Arwen to tell the tale.

"She became separated from them, and wandered through the forest alone before being ensnared by Eöl." Arwen paused, watching as her brothers mounted their horses. It was a fine sight, the combined forces of Imladris and Lothlórien spread out in the valley before them, the armor of the horsemen and archers glinting in the morning sun and a breeze making the bright banners twirl above them. "I always asked Naneth how it was that Eöl ensnared one of the grandchildren of Finwë, one who had ridden so often in hunts with her cousins in Aman, and was counted as wise."

She was quiet, as the command to ride was given and the armies began to move out. Elrond, Celeborn and Galadriel, with Elrohir, Elladan and Glorfindel behind them, were in the lead. The archers of Lothlórien walked behind them, with the combined forces of the two havens bringing up the rear. Those who remained behind raised their hands in farewell, but no one cheered or sang the armies away. Only the birds called in the distance, and a few quick shadows flitted through the trees as the Silvan scouts ran ahead.

Later there would be celebrating for those who returned and mourning for those who went on to the Halls. There would be songs of joy and songs of lamenting.

Now the wait began.

Bronwe sighed and looked at Arwen. "Eöl had power over things that no Valinorean had imagined those born here could possibly possess."

"He wooed her or enchanted her, whichever way you wish to see it," Arwen said softly. "And took her to wife. Her tale did not end happily, for she rebelled against her husband as well." A glance sideways showed a slight grimace. "I cannot blame her. I always told Naneth that Eöl seemed quite dour and dark and controlling. She did not deserve to die."

The entire tale was a tragedy, and not one Bronwe enjoyed hearing. She had lived through the wars of Beleriand, survived a kinslaying, and understood too well what it was to watch a loved one ride away and wonder if they would return. She wanted to tell Arwen that she was already wiser than her kinswoman, Aredhel. Stronger and wiser, though just as treasured. "No, she didn't."

"I understand Aredhel. She was kept behind walls for her protection, as were all in Gondolin, but for one who had been so free in Aman…" Arwen sighed. "It is hard to wait and harder to be left behind." She blinked back tears as she watched the last banner, flying bright and bold in the wind, fade from elven sight.

"But what we do, those left behind, matters as well."

"Part of me wants to find a horse and ride hard to catch them. To fight with them." Arwen closed her eyes against the tears, and calmed her pounding heart. "But if my father or brothers were torn between the thought of me in danger and the duty before them they might be hurt or killed."

Bronwe squeezed Arwen's hand. "Not all of us fight beneath banners or with the sword."

Arwen slowly nodded. "I remain and do not fight as they do." She turned to Bronwe, eyes fierce. "But we fight in our own way, do we not?"

The answering gaze was just as fierce. "We do, and hold steadfast until they return."

"Bronwe!"

The healer turned to face the Lothlórien guard jogging towards her. "Is all well?"

He grimaced. "We have walking wounded already. A lad who thought to follow through the trees and was nearly shot for his effort. Will you come see to him?"

"Yes, but…" Bronwe turned to Arwen. "I need to check the supply of salves and bandages after I see to the boy. Do you wish to come with me or will you remain here?"

Arwen asked the guard, "Was he wounded badly?"

"No, Lady. The warden pulled his shot when he recognized the lad. He's limping about but it's barely a graze." A wink and he gestured to Bronwe. "Still, I told him I'd fetch a healer in case it's worse than it looks."

"I'll be along in a bit to help with bandages." They would undoubtedly need them for those who returned. Arwen watched Bronwe hurry off, already busy with the work of those left behind. Others would prepare food, or beds for the fighters. Some would bring in hay and water for the horses. There was work to be done.

She looked up through the branches of the mallyrn to the blue above them. The morning star, gleaming brightly, shone forth a bit brighter in the morning sky. Eärendil kept his vigil as well.

"Steadfast," Arwen murmured as she looked at those around her. "We keep what we have and will not waver."

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><p><strong><em>AN: _**

_I know! I almost never do this and I'm not sure why I did this time (apart from the explanation below), however I did look for reliable sources of translations. If I used grelvish, for the love of __**all**__ that is good please tell me! XD _

_Translations:_

_Mauya nin avánië, melda heri: _I must leave, beloved lady_ (Quenyan)_

_Farad vaer, hîr vuin: _Good hunting, beloved lord_ (Sindarin)_

_So why the two languages when they're speaking to each other? Glorfindel's first language was Quenya. Bronwe's first language was Sindarin. They both speak both languages but this is a little thing they do, speaking to one another in what each would say was their language. Bron teases him for being a stuffy Noldo and Glorfindel teases her for being a tree-loving Sinda. What can I say? Married people do silly things like this. *g*_


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